End of a Story.

[OzYmandi 647]

End of a Story.

Klementim sat upon the table of his humble hut near the Johannesburgian Wasteland. He gazed upon the book atop of it. A book of tales his father used to read to him when he was young. The old man then gazed afront his window out the strangely snowy grass covering the ground around the hut. He smiled, remembering of his good and bad decisions in life, and also events, encounters.. Generaly everything in his life. Klementim had no regrets. Except for that time he threw alchemist's fire at Jack Bancroft, one of his close friends.

 

Klementim then took the book and sat on his bed, letting out a rough and old sigh, settling down the book and laying on his back, his head resting on the pillow as he looked to the roof he luckily kept. The harsh winter around him from the Wasteland causing shivers to his person, the old half-elf remembering the Legion times. Remembering Ser Sylvestre. Ser Walter. Ser that, Ser the other. And him continuing on his proud and loyal service to his closest friends. He remembers the tension of his friend going through a trial, for something he didn't even know was happening. He was a revolution rise and take over an Empire he learned to hate. He saw new kingdoms emerge, and old ones fall. He saw the birth of his son... and the death of the mother.

 

But so will live on the tale of Klementim.

 

He remembered back the times when he was a legionnaire.. Jolly times, where peace reigned upon Oren and he had such.. False visions upon the Empire he so whole-heartedly defended. But that was not the main thing in Klementim's mind.

 

His friends... Zaor Ianric, Sylvestre Halcourt, Jack Bancroft, James Hanson... All of those who helped him in dire times. And not even dire, but good times, fun times... sad times.  He saw what the eyes that sat on Johannesburg could not see when the city when to the air. The place of his best stories just flying miles and miles away.

 

But there was nothing he could do.

 

Klementim finally started reading again the book given by his father. Oh so creative tales written. Oh so ficticious, well written characters that resided in a child's dream.

 

And so he read through the entire book in what looked like a glimpse back at his life. He settled the book down, looked up at his poor roof, and slept.

 

Slept peacefully, careless about what resided outside.

 

He just slept. Slept for the rest of his days.

 

 

 

 

Покойся с миром.

(Rest in Peace)

[Man of Respect 5471]

Бразильцы Гордос

(God bless America)

[Demotheus 651]

Is this yoru dark elf? idk.

[Andustar 4143]

Ser Viktor remembers the time he smothered the feeble man in thanhium dust.

[OzYmandi 647]

Half-elf @Demotheus

[ItzYoBoiEd 148]

(( You got so many characters, I cnat keep track of them all, who is this? The guard?

[OzYmandi 647]

34 minutes ago, EddarxyREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE said:

(( You got so many characters, I cnat keep track of them all, who is this? The guard?

((Yes, the guard.))

[Vetren54 368]

Ser "the other" Ironsword frowns, dismayed at the loss of Klementim.  He'd remember him as a good man, loyal to the cause of upholding the laws of the Empire and protecting those who could not protect themselves.  He'd dismiss what Klementim did after his career for the sake of what his comrade had done.

[Paleo 298]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.